One Dayers Crew (Horrorshow/Spit Syndicate) by James d’Apice

0

Take a group of close friends: rap music types. Two are signed to Melbourne label Obese Records, and two to Sydney’ Elefant Traks. Add a fifth guy, sit down for a chat, and try to figure out how five men who share a love of graffiti and Sydney’ Inner West came to be at the forefront of a movement.

They all arrived lovably late, the whole 1day crew. The swoon-inducing Nick Lupi followed by his Spit Syndicate colleague Jimmy Nice. Man-mountain DJ Joyride beamed a wide, welcoming smile as he approached the table, with Horrorshow wunderkinder Solo and Adit close behind. We were at the Sultan’ Table in Enmore and about to chat about anything and everything. What fun. Or so I hoped.

Things began clumsily. “I’ll record this whole interview on my phone”, I announced. “Don’ worry about me missing anything when I’m typing. Everything you say will be a data file soon enough. We good?”

The response was hesitant, and it came from Adit, a man known for his beat making expertise and keen ear: “are you sure that’s going to be able to record everything, man? This is a pretty loud restaurant.”

The four other faces stared back at me; all made the same polite enquiry.

Strike one. At this rate I had to hope they were going to like the double-sided question sheets I’d printed out for each of them.

A few minutes in and we’re cooking with gas. I made a joke about my profession that went down with Joyride almost as well as it did in my head. Adit and Solo were consideration incarnate. And Jimmy Nice ripped on Nick Lupi for being “ethnic” because he offered our photographer the plate of dips.

It’s quickly becoming apparent that the appeal of getting these five together goes beyond the social. Unsurprisingly, they all came off as intelligent. The shock was just how reflective they all were; and how much thought they managed to give to questions asked seconds beforehand.

The first question of the night was pretty easy: is rapping about getting girls a self-fulfilling prophecy? Not for the last time that night, knowing laughter filled the air.

“The myth has to start somewhere – chicken and egg. I find myself saying this all the time, actually. Maybe I need to rap about it more, though”, added Solo. “Yeah, you don’ rap about girls enough”, chirped Nice.

The laughs were unanimous and immediate but – interestingly – Solo wrested back control of the situation and returned to the question, trying to make sure I left with something substantial. It’s a classy move, the move of a gentleman. Solo’ concerned that this interview was in danger of developing into a boozy school reunion.

Solo put an old quote of Nick Lupi’ to him and asked for his response. When it arrived, it was eloquent and intriguing. It concluded simply, “girls occupy a lot of time in my head.”

What’s everyone’ pick of the dips, then?

“Hummus”, for Joyride.

“Carrot”, for the Elefant Traks signed Horrorshow duo.

“Way too early to call. I haven’ even done combos yet”, says Jimmy.

“Shit. I wasn’ even thinking about that. Combos is advanced”, says Solo, more than a little awestruck.

“Don’ overdo it. But explore.”

Laughter again.

Preparing for this interview, I had been into the idea that Spit Syndicate, Horrorshow, Made In Japan, Sarah Corry, DJ Joyride, The Accidents and anyone else who could be tarred with the 1dayers brush were a part of something. I’d spent the better part of the time between entrée (assorted dips) and main (assorted pide) throwing the word “zeitgeist” out there and no one was biting. This was partly because I defined it badly (“it means time ghost”) but chiefly because those 1dayers present saw themselves as part of something broader.

Adit explained. “We’re doing what kids all over the country are doing: writing songs in our bedrooms and recording it at home in the closet… It’s nothing unique. We’re doing what kids everywhere have been doing for years”, he said.

Solo clarified, “there are two levels to what you are talking about… We are making our contribution to music and hip-hop as people who have been fans and interested in it in a long time. With us specifically and our grass roots thing going on, it’s all on the back of this large network of people in Sydney and particularly the inner west; kids connected through schools and friendship circles and we have come up in that.

“That groundswell of support has given us the platform to take it on a national level and get involved in labels and that sort of thing. I don’ know about a zeitgeist, though.”

The pide arrived. Nick Lupi looked up as the rest of us had started eating, “we’ll know about that zeitgeist in ten years, man. Too early to call shit a zeitgeist.”

As Lupi and friends have become more well known, those of us who’ve looked on have begun to get a sense of who’ who in the 1day world. Just as Raphael is cool but rude, and Michaelangelo is a party dude; so is Solo the emotional ladies’ man, and DJ Joyride the funnest person there has ever been. I was intrigued to find out whether the men ever got a sense that they were being pre-judged in this way and, if so, whether having a stereotype precede you was evidence of increased popularity – to be no longer a person, but an idea.

The suggestion was met with less than universal acclaim.

Changing tack, I put a specific question to Jimmy Nice. Jimmy is sometimes quiet but never shy, he raps about James Dean, and exudes cool. He’ also particularly warm and friendly in person. Only one line of inquiry would do.

Jimmy, how many times have you lost your phone?

Laughter, and wry smile from our hero.

“Yeah… Every six months I have lost a phone.”

“Was this your iPhone in the pool?” asked Adit.

“Yeah, I was there when he jumped in. Funny shit”, Solo corroborated.

“I haven’ lost something since Australia Day. Something important. I haven’ lost any of the big three since Australia Day: wallet, keys, phone.”

With genuine, tangible warmth Solo consoles his colleague. “James can be hard to get a hold of. The way I like to think about it is that he does his own thing and he does it like a boss. Whether it’s getting him to wake up on tour…”

“He’ a maverick”, Lupi interrupts.

“Maverick. Mel Gibson over here,” pipes up Joyride, fairly silent through the night. Of course, laughter follows.

The chuckles are unsurprising for Solo: “I’ve never met anyone who’ met Joyride and didn’ think he was the maddest guy ever.” “And he’ complex”, adds Adit. “I’m complex”, confirms the big man.

“If you were stranded on a desert island with no board games or coconuts to eat, Dixy [Joyride] would be great. But he can’ drink”, says Jimmy.

Dixy hits back, “this coming from James “what is this lighter fluid?’ every time I pour you a drink? You’re saying I can’ drink?”

“He’ a lightweight”, says Jim.

“I’m not a lightweight. You can put in the article that I’m versatile”, he says looking over at me.

The fact I’m writing an article for a magazine hangs in the air. I’ve got the back of a computer screen pointed at my five subjects and a photographer is searching for the right shot behind me. I’m tapping on the keyboard as I go, iPhone voice memos proving themselves entirely useless. As hard as I had hoped to just wind up our heroes and watch them go, the “question/answer” formula has ensconced itself.

Clearly, we needed a topic switch. A few weeks ago, Solo had been the subject of a “just for laughs” rap celebrity dating program on Sydney radio station FBi. It seemed appropriate – he raps about girls, they dream about him.

His take is different, though, and the only time Solo rankles is when I put to him that he’s a sex symbol. He rejected it, just as he rejected “alternative” sex symbol and even my trump card: “reluctant” sex symbol.

“I don’ see the correlation between being emotional and being a sex symbol. I look at the girls in the crowd and I think maybe it’s refreshing or intriguing to some girls, maybe something they don’ hear all the time in other rap music, maybe that’s why there are girls at our shows. That doesn’ equate with being a sex symbol. Prince was a sex symbol. I’m not Prince. I’m not Sting.”

“Sting!? Prince!?”, Adit is shocked. Once more, laughter.

“Who’ a sex symbol then, you fuckers?! Sting has pulled more bitches than you could ever hope to.”

Lupi is too quick: “Robbie Williams.”

“There you go”, Solo concedes with a hint of frustration.

It’s no lasting irritation. The bunch of convoluted, creative, lasting, joyous friendships across the table were not the type to hold a grudge or misinterpret a bit of playful mockery. If the term wasn’ such a messy palimpsest, then the group could be a “Band of Brothers”; all looking ahead, trying to get something done. Together.

“If we couldn’ do what we’re doing, we’d find some other medium”, explains Jimmy. “We haven’ even reached where we want to reach.

“Some things have paid off, some things we have to work harder at. At the moment, we’re just trying to help each other do well. There is enough room in what we’re doing for everyone to do well. We’re on to something good I think, as long as we can stay on track. We’re moving forward.”

No laughter at that one.

Share.

About Author

Comments are closed.